


The Prince and His Princess (+ One Pirate)

by JustinTimberlake



Category: Football RPF, Men's Football RPF
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, absolute filth, bit of side winks/dier and maguire/trippier because why not, d/s dynamics, dele in a dress, shit gets real in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 23:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16464179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustinTimberlake/pseuds/JustinTimberlake
Summary: The prince finds his princess (and a pirate along the way). Or, Harry and Dele pull John Stones into another one of their games - Halloween style.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dierdele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dierdele/gifts).



> I'm here to publicly declare my love for Shelbz, Harry Kane, Dele and John Stones. (In that order.) I don't know why this idea wouldn't fucking leave me alone but here we are!!! Hope you guys enjoy x

Dele tugs on his skirt and whines.

“Harry I look so ridiculous.”

Harry rolls his eyes. Dele hasn’t stopped whining all night, but Harry knows just as well as Dele that once Harry gives him even a little bit of attention in the outfit later, Dele will think he’s the sexiest person in the world. 

“Just put your clothes on Del. We’re running late already.”

Dele mutters something about how it’s easy for him to say, but Harry doesn’t scold him. Doesn’t have the energy. He just wants to get going and get to the party. He has big plans for tonight, and while he always plans a bit of wiggle room for Dele to be a whiny little child, he’s a little impatient tonight. And it has a lot to do with exactly what Dele is whining about - that fucking  _ outfit.  _ He can barely look at him sat there on the bed because if he looks at him for too long he just knows that the plans won’t come to fruition. Knows that he will just fuck Dele all night long and make him whine something else entirely.

Harry fiddles with his shirt sleeve and fake gold cufflinks. If he’s honest, he thinks he also looks a bit ridiculous. He only looked at the Prince Charming outfit because he was already planning on Dele being a princess, and was going to return it, but Dele had walked in and seen him in the outfit, and, after dropping immediately to his knees and sucking Harry off, had gushed about how handsome he was. Dele had told him he’s actually a real life Prince Charming before he drifted off to sleep, and Harry knew from then that he couldn’t return it. 

Dele is struggling with his stockings, and Harry considers helping him before he sees a flash of Dele’s underwear while Dele’s legs are flailing around. It’s red. And it looks like lace. He stands up quickly. 

“I’m going to go get us both a drink. We can get taxis to Eric’s and back.” 

Dele yells after him that he wants a Pornstar Martini, and Harry rolls his eyes but makes him one anyway. He makes himself a small measure of gin and tonic, but Dele’s cocktail is a little more difficult to make a mini version of. It’s fine though. Dele will still drink it in seconds and then be thirsty for more. Harry smirks.  _ It’s not just the cocktail he’s thirsty for.  _ He shakes his head once, and braces himself before he walks back into the room again. 

Dele is now fully dressed and is admiring himself in the mirror. 

Harry refrains from rolling his eyes again, and just wordlessly hands Dele his drink. 

Dele shakes his ass a bit and preens at Harry.

“I like this,” he fiddles with the gaudy tiara in his hair that Harry had picked up from Claire’s on a whim. “It’s pretty.”

Harry smiles back at him. 

“You’re pretty.” 

He takes a sip of his gin, and Dele’s smile widens. He’s blushing a little bit, but he looks delighted. Harry smiles into his drink and wonders why Dele is so surprised every time he compliments him as if he doesn’t do it like five times a day. He’s dating a needy little fool.

Dele, as Harry suspected, grabs the glass and downs the entire thing in one. It’s a good job Dele is rich, he thinks. If he has to down cocktails that cost about £15 a pop, he doesn’t want to see how quickly Dele would be forced to drink a j ä gerbomb. 

Harry stands up and downs the rest of his drink with a grimace. 

“Okay, Del. You ready?”

Dele nods.

“Then let’s go.”

\--

The party is in full swing. It’s really nice that all of the England lads have come together for the party, except for the fact that every single one of them have gave Dele hell about his outfit. Of course, they’re only joking, but Harry can tell that Dele is really embarrassed. And it doesn’t really fit very well with his plan. He thought that at least one of the boys would appreciate how fucking good Dele looks right now, and he’s more than a little disappointed that it doesn’t seem to be getting the reaction he hoped for.

Marcus and Jesse suddenly cheer wildly, and start yelling “Manchester!” so loudly that they are totally audible over the music. They run over to where Kyle and John have just entered, and Harry smiles over at them. Dele, on the other hand, edges a bit closer to Harry and pouts.

“They’re gonna make fun of me,” Dele whispers. 

Harry lets his hand rest on the small of Dele’s back and rubs it comfortingly. 

He doesn’t deny it though. He knew from the start that Kyle and John were probably the least likely targets for his plan anyway, so he’s pretty sure they probably will make fun of him. It’s okay though, because even if his plan doesn’t go entirely the way he wanted it to, he has a backup. A backup which mainly involves fucking Dele in public, skirt and all. If he can help it though, he will try for his plan A and get one of the boys interested. He’s just waiting patiently for someone to show any sign of interest. 

“Come on, let’s get it out of the way,” Dele mutters under his breath, and he starts to tug Harry over to where Kyle and John have just come in. 

Kyle looks up as they approach and grins like he’s just won the lottery.

“Oh, Dele,” he says with delight. “You’ve really out-bottomed yourself tonight.” 

Dele breaks free of Harry briefly to shove Kyle. He’s laughing though. 

“Shut up, Walker!” 

Kyle just laughs, and goes easily. 

“And Prince Harry over here too! You two are just too adorable, aren’t you?”

Harry and Dele laugh, and Dele looks beyond pleased that Kyle is taking it so well. 

John is laughing along, but doesn’t say anything, and stays stood there even as Kyle runs over to jump on Trippier, Maguire stopping him before he can and bodily shoving him back.

“You’ll kill him, Walks!”

Harry hears Trippier, Maguire and Walker argue for a little while about how small he is before he turns back to Dele and John. Dele is watching the trio with a grin, but John isn’t looking at them at all. He’s looking at Dele. 

_ Jackpot. _

Harry smirks as John catches his eye, and John’s eyes widen a little.

“Nice costume, John,” he gestures to John’s pirate outfit. John ducks his head and thanks him, scratching the back of his neck a little awkwardly and looking up with a guilty little grin.

Dele spins around, his skirt flying a little bit with the movement. Harry nods appreciatively and Dele preens. He looks at John, who is clearly trying his best not to look down. Dele seems to note that John hasn’t made fun of him yet, and he grins a little and cocks his head to the side.

“Do you like my costume, John?”

John nods quickly. A little too quickly. Harry feels a little too predatory for it to be even nearly normal, and he tries to tone it down a little. Tries to stop grinning at John like a shark.

“Oh that’s great. He really hoped you would like it, John,” Harry lies quickly, and moves on before John can question it. “So let’s go and get a drink. John, what are you having?”

Dele starts to answer with what he wants and Harry just shushes him. Dele opens his mouth again and Harry glares at him, but not without a little meaningful raise of his eyebrow. He’s trying to tell Dele that the game is officially on.

“I didn’t ask you, Dele.”

The way that Dele responds to Harry’s dismissal lets Harry know that Dele got his message. He ducks his head submissively and doesn’t say another word, which is telling enough, but more telling is the little smirk he’s trying to hide behind his hand.

“Sorry about that, John. What would you like?”

“Uh,” John scratches his neck again. “Whatever you’re having, H.”

Harry assesses him for a second.

“Nah,” he dismisses. “You can have a cocktail like Dele.” 

The way he sees it, the next couple of hours is a test. A test to see if John would be into this. If John could fit the role that he and Dele have in their heads in this little fantasy. If it works, Harry’s actually more excited than he thought he would be at the prospect of another person joining them in the taxi ride home tonight. 

John passed the first test when he checked Dele out. But that was easy. Harry’s surprised so many other people failed, considering how Dele literally looks good enough to eat. The second test is a little more difficult, and he now passes it with flying colours as he doesn’t protest at all when Harry pours his drink for him. A drink that he didn’t ask for and that Harry’s not sure if he even likes. He passes a third test that Harry hadn’t even set when he sucks on his straw lightly and looks up at Harry with wide eyes. 

This is going to be so easy.

\--

The night continues. It gets wilder with every passing second. Not just between Harry, Dele and their desired conquest for the night, but just in general. All of the boys are so unused to being allowed to drink, and encouraged to party together, that when it happens they just go a bit mental.

Harry doesn’t even know if their planned threesome is the wildest thing going on. It certainly isn’t the most unexpected event of the night. No, he thinks catching Vardy sucking Pickford’s dick definitely takes the cake on that one. He almost doesn’t want to have sex ever again after he sees it. He wants to bleach his own eyeballs. Just then, though, as he slams the door shut and turns around, he sees Dele stumbling into the bathrooms and holding up his pretty little skirt so that he can piss and, okay. He’s okay now. He’s cured.

He’s pretty sure that Maguire and Trippier have gone home together, too, despite the fact it’s barely 11:00 PM. That one isn’t as surprising, though. They’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, not that either of them would ever admit it. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if they were only going home together to watch Netflix and sneak glances at each other when the other isn’t watching. 

He shakes his head as he thinks about it. Dele always says it’s so special being with Harry because he gets to see him all the time, and their relationship is special because they’re teammates, best friends, and boyfriends all at the same time. Turns out that’s not that special - apparently the entire English team are sucking each other off and fucking each other and god knows what else. Unbelievable. 

Of course, it’s not all sexual. Kyle and Jesse and Marcus have also physically broken a table. Marcus spends around twenty minutes drunkenly trying to transfer £150k to Eric to pay for it, but in the end he somehow manages to add a couple too many zeroes. 

“Oh shit,” Marcus says, “I think I’m overdrawn.” 

Kyle and Jesse absolutely cry with laughter. Marcus is trying to reason with them, whining at them to stop laughing, and trying to get Eric’s attention, but Eric is too busy chatting with Delph and Winks to hear him. Winks keeps edging closer and closer to Eric as the night goes on, batting his eyelashes up at him and laughing at everything he says. Harry wonders idly if Eric is going to notice the blatant flirting before Winks has to literally drop to his knees in front of him. 

On the other side of the room, Trent and Henderson are on Dance Dance Revolution, which isn’t that wild, granted, but it’s pretty wild for those two, especially considering Henderson is maybe the most competitive man alive, and makes tiny, lightweight Trent do shots every time he loses. 

Harry turns away and looks at something that interests him much more than Trent getting drunker and drunker by the minute. 

Dele and John are dancing together. They’re dancing together and they look ridiculous because, you know, neither of them can  _ dance,  _ but Harry is enjoying the view anyway. Especially when John spins Dele around and his skirt flies up. Dele lets go of John’s hand and pats his skirt down as quickly as humanly possible, but Harry saw that little flash of red again, and he’s pretty sure John did too, judging by John’s face. He’s about as red as the knickers. 

Harry almost goes up and joins them, but he waits for a few more minutes. He thinks to himself that when the time is right, he will just know. And he knows that when that time comes, everything is going to happen very  _ very  _ quickly. 

He takes another sip of his drink and is immediately rewarded for his decision to wait when  _ Pony  _ starts to play, and Dele laughs lightly before looking over at him intently. Harry is a little torn. That song feels a bit like it’s  _ their  _ song - the first time he and Dele got together was because Dele was dared to give him a lapdance and it was to this very song - but on the other hand, Dele won’t stop looking him in the eyes, even as he manhandles Stonesy and makes him put his hands on his hips so he can grind back into him. 

Harry can feel John’s eyes on him too, but he carries on looking at Dele, who is smiling at him now, eyes bright and mischievous. He adjusts his tiara on his head when he feels it slipping, then lifts his skirt just a little, showing him a little more thigh. He grins at Harry now, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and his lips barbie pink from the lipstick Winks had forced on him, and he mouths the words “I love you.” It’s so out of place, when another man is now gripping his hips and grinding into his ass, but it’s also just so Dele.

God. 

He loves him so fucking much. 

Harry grins over at him, and then he finally looks at Stones, who is staring at him with something akin to fright. He pauses in his movement against Dele until Dele turns around, offended, and pats at John’s shoulder impatiently. John carries on looking at Harry and Harry gives him a simple nod.

John takes that for what it is, and awkwardly starts up again, getting into it more and more now that he knows Harry isn’t mad. 

The pair of them get sluttier and sluttier, Dele gripping at John’s shirt so tightly that some of John’s buttons fly off, and John’s fingers starting to tug at the bottom of Dele’s skirt, hiking it up higher and higher up his thigh. They both only stop when some girl Eric hired to hand out shots and bombs comes over to them and hands them both a j ä gerbomb. Dele scrunches his nose up, and Harry feels an odd sense of smugness. He  _ knew _ that Dele was too much of a princess for j ä ger. 

John rolls his eyes and downs his own, then looks back at Harry briefly as if asking for permission for something. Harry doesn’t do anything, just smiles slightly and waits. John waits for a couple more seconds before he grabs Dele’s out of his hand. 

Harry sees John say something to Dele, and suddenly Dele looks at him with a burning intensity, nodding to whatever John has said. Dele licks his lips, and Harry is deeply intrigued. He’s even more intrigued when John taps Dele’s chin, and Dele leans his head back, rests it on John’s shoulder, and opens his mouth. God. It’s even the way he opens his mouth. Eyes closed, tongue out, and lips parted as wide as they will go - he’s such a perfect little slut. Harry can feel himself getting hot. He sees John bite his lips, and he’s so thrilled that John is affected by this too. 

John pours the liquid down Dele’s throat, and Dele just. Lets him. Harry sees him swallow it, his adam’s apple bobbing with the movement, and sees when Dele tilts his head up just a little too soon, the dark liquid running down his chin when John doesn’t let up and carries on pouring. Even from this far away, he can see Dele’s chest glistening as the liquid runs down it and disappears beneath the light pink lace of his bodice, and he decides enough is enough.

If he doesn’t fuck Dele within the next hour or so, he might actually die. 

He pushes himself off his chair, finishes his drink and sets it down with a little bit more force than is probably needed onto the kitchen counter. Eric turns away from Winks briefly, who is now leaning against Eric’s arm. Winks pouts and pats at his wrist as Eric turns away from him. Eric shushes him and asks Harry if he wants another drink.

Harry shakes his head.

“Actually, might head off in a minute, but thanks for such a great party, Eric.”

Eric smiles at him.

“No worries, mate,” he pats Harry on the arm, and Harry brings him in for a brief one-armed hug. Eric, never one for shit hugs, lets go of Winks to envelope Harry into a proper bear hug, and squeezes him before he lets him go.

“Get home safe!” 

Harry smiles at him and thanks him, and turns round just in time to see Dele shooting daggers at Eric with his eyes, then looking over to pout at Harry unhappily. Harry’s unsure of how Dele has the audacity to look jealous about a hug while he’s literally backing his ass into another guy, but he heads over to them regardless. He feels a brief flash of sympathy for Eric as he hears Winks start to whine behind him. Eric definitely doesn’t know what he’s letting himself in for. Not if Winks is anything like Dele.

Dele starts to brighten up a little as Harry approaches, and even leans away from John to greet him. He looks like he’s going in for a hug, so Harry is a little surprised when Dele starts kissing him messily, coaxing his lips open with his tongue. 

Harry lets him lick his way into his mouth, but he puts a warning hand on his hip when Dele tries to grab at him and take it any further. John’s hand is also still resting on Dele’s hip, and he snatches it away when Harry brushes past it as if he is burned. Harry looks at him as he pushes Dele a little further back. Back into John. He keeps looking at him as he kisses Dele on the cheek, and bites at his earlobe. 

“We’re going home,” Harry says to Dele, but he’s still looking at John. John’s eyes are wide and he looks  _ so  _ awkward but he also isn’t moving any further away, isn’t laughing and pushing Dele off him. “Shall we all share a cab?”

John dithers a little bit and swallows. Harry smiles at him a little encouragingly, knowing that he isn’t being subtle at all. John’s hotel is in the complete opposite direction of their flat and they all know it. 

“Yeah,” John finally says, a little breathlessly. “Saves the planet and that.” 

Dele smirks at Harry, and, knowing that John can’t see, mouths “Got him!” with a wink. 

Harry smirks back.

“Let’s go then.”


	2. Chapter 2

They don’t speak much on the taxi ride home, but Dele does spend the entire ride pawing at Harry’s chest and trying to kiss his neck. John sits across from them and looks like he doesn’t know where to look, until Harry nudges him with his toe. He runs his foot up the inside of John’s calves, and smiles at him. John takes a deep breath and nods. More than anything, this feels like the moment when John finally decides to join them, even more than when he just climbed into the taxi. He watches them for the rest of the ride with shameless interest, and Harry is surprised by how hot it is to have someone watch them like that.

When they get back to their flat, Harry gestures to John to help Dele out as he pays and fishes the keys out of his pocket. John does as he is bid, and keeps his fingers wrapped around Dele’s arm even as Harry walks them both to the door. 

Harry is intrigued by the idea that John is already so confident that he would do that, but then he has to remember not everyone is as wildly submissive as Dele. Like. He’s pretty sure John has a bit of it in him, knows from the constant looks for affirmation John kept giving him at the party, and from John allowing Harry to choose his drinks all night, but he also is starting to see that maybe John will fight back a little too. It’s going to be interesting. 

Harry opens the door for the pair of them, and they both thank him quietly as he holds it open and lets them go through. He nods approvingly. He loves it when Dele is polite, and loves that John is polite even without Harry’s lectures. 

As soon as the door is closed, Harry is all business.

“John, I think you know as well as we do exactly why you’re here,” he pauses, and John nods, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “So, just blanket ground rules. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, if you want to leave, if you want to stop, if you just want a breather, just say the word and we’ll do whatever you want. That’s the most important rule.”

Dele nods, and Harry gives him a cursory smile before turning back to John.

“Another rule, though, and this one’s pretty important too” he drops his voice a little, and grabs John’s chin lightly. “I’m in charge.”

John blinks up at him before he nods wordlessly. Harry sees his eyes drop to gaze at his lips, and wonders whether to kiss him yet. Whether he’s earned it.

He’s saved from his internal monologue with an interruption from Dele.

“Daddy?”

John looks around at him in shock, laughing a little and twisting in Harry’s grip.

“Do you actually call him that?”

Harry tightens his hold on John’s chin and forces him to look back at him. 

“Yeah, he does. And I’m letting you off with a warning now, but interruptions normally don’t go unpunished. Okay, John?”

John nods.

“Yes,” he chokes. “Uh. Sorry Dele. Sorry um, Harry.”

Harry nods and turns back to Dele.

“You were saying, Princess?”

Dele smiles sweetly up at him, and Harry is blown away for a second at how good Dele is at playing this role. 

“I was going to ask if I could kiss John, please?”

Harry nods.

“Of course you can, sweetheart.”

Harry lets go of John’s chin and lets Dele coax John into sitting on the bed before clambering on top of him. Dele’s skirt is riding obscenely high on his thighs, and when John grips Dele’s ass, he pulls the skirt up a little bit, and groans when he finds lace.

Harry thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and John seems to agree.

“Fuck,” John looks over at Harry, “Where did you even find him?”

“Why?”  Harry smiles. “Do you think he’s good?”

John nods.

“Tell him that.”

Dele looks over at him gratefully, and fully preens when John says he’s an incredible little slut. Harry watches them both for a minute, lets them make out messily for a little while longer before handing out another instruction.

“Hey, Del,” he whispers, “Why don’t you show John how good you are?” 

Dele grins back at him cheekily, and clambers off John, falling backwards onto his ass with a little thump. 

He gets over it quickly and rights himself, coming to rest on his knees in front of John. He touches John’s legs through the thin fabric of his silk pirate pants, and looks up at John.

“Can I?”

Even though Harry was the one to suggest it to Dele, John still looks at him for confirmation, and Harry likes that. He likes that a lot.

Harry is about to nod again, but then instead he decides he wants to get a little more involved. He stands up and walks slowly over to the pair of them. John watches him the entire way, and Dele waits patiently, not taking his eyes off John. Harry stops when he reaches them, and puts his hand on the back of Dele’s head, stroking it casually. 

Harry licks his lips, and notices how John’s eyes track the movement, his head tilting up a little as if he can’t help it.

“Can he, John?” Harry leans further into John’s personal space. “Can Dele suck your cock?” 

John swallows, blinking at Harry. He nods slowly.

Harry doesn’t look down but he just knows that Dele is grinning as he leans forward and laps at John’s cock through the silky material. He keeps his fingers knotted in Dele’s hair, and pushes his head a little further into John’s lap, causing Dele to let out a little whine. 

Harry takes a minute to assess the scene in front of him. Dele’s light pink dress is falling off one shoulder, and his tiara is a little askew. His lips are still a little pink from Winks’ lipstick. And he’s mouthing at John’s cock desperately. 

_ God,  _ Harry thinks,  _ my boyfriend is such a fucking slut.  _

Dele starts to pull down John’s trousers, and John lets out a little moan, making Harry snap his head back up and tear his eyes away from Dele. He’s a little startled to find that John is still staring at him, lips parted and eyes wide. They look even wider because of the dark smudges of eyeliner underneath. Harry isn’t ashamed to say that he’s really fucking into it.

Harry lifts his hand that’s not in Dele’s hair up to John’s face, and John leans into it almost immediately, nuzzling his palm. Harry bites back a smile as he strokes John’s cheek and John lets out another whine. 

Harry can feel Dele move below him, and watches John’s reaction as Dele leans forward and takes his cock into his mouth. He can feel Dele’s head push back a little against his hold when John bucks his hips and Dele tries to pull back. Harry doesn’t give in to Dele’s movement, and Dele stops struggling. Just pauses for a second then dips his head again.

_ Good boy.  _

John turns his head to the side and licks a stripe up Harry’s palm. Harry, shocked, doesn’t do anything, and John looks emboldened by the lack of response as he takes one of Harry’s fingers into his mouth and sucks. 

Harry raises his eyebrow, and adds another. John greedily laps at them both, and looks up at Harry pleadingly. 

“What’s wrong, John?”

He doesn’t remove his fingers. John garbles around them as best as he can, and Harry just about makes out the word “kiss.” John looks deeply frustrated at himself, and tries to say it again, more clearly. It doesn’t work, and John gets a little more annoyed until Harry shushes him and takes his fingers out of John’s mouth so he can comb through his hair. 

He is just about to tell John that it’s fine, that he understood him, but John takes the opportunity to finally tell Harry what he wants.

“Please kiss me.”

Harry hesitates. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like kissing is sort of his and Dele’s thing. A boyfriend privilege. On the other hand, though, he did let Dele kiss John. And he definitely didn’t have a problem with that. He’s still trying to think of what to do next, too, though. Dele hadn’t really specified who he’d want to fuck him, and their plans hadn’t extended much further than “get another lad back to our place and get his clothes off.” So Harry is having to make a lot of it up as he goes along, feeling whatever feels right  _ in the moment _ . For some reason, the moment just doesn’t feel right for him to kiss John. 

So he ignores the request, and tries to ignore the way John’s face falls when he looks away from him. He taps Dele’s temple twice, signalling for him to stop sucking John’s dick. Dele pulls off, and his lipstick is smudged all around his chin, smeared with precome and saliva, and Harry wishes he could take a picture and look at him like that forever. 

Dele looks beyond pleased when Harry actually does pull out his phone and snap a quick picture of him, but he does whine and ask Harry to take another one so that he can adjust his tiara. Harry rolls his eyes but does it anyway, sort of living for the way that Dele acts up for the camera. He’s struck with a sudden thought of how fun  _ that  _ would be, but files it away for another time. 

John is sat there silently, looking a bit moody. He’s crossing his arms and trying to hide a pout, but his eyebrows are knitted together. 

Harry feels a little bad. 

He’s not sure what it is about him that seems to make people like Dele and John so desperate for his attention, but he can admit to himself that it’s most definitely a thing. It seems to be that once he gives someone a little bit of attention or affection they seem to get greedier, and just want more. And it doesn’t help when the people in question are total fucking subs. 

“Del, do you want me to fuck you? Or our special guest?” 

Dele ponders that for a second, and finally shrugs. 

“I think,” Dele says, a little quietly, “I think it would be nice to, um. See you fuck him? Maybe?”

Harry blinks. That’s a little unexpected. He never would’ve thought Dele, jealous little princess he is, would want to see Harry fucking someone else. He looks up at John, who has loosened his crossed arms a bit, but still looks moody. Harry thinks about it for a few more seconds, wonders how Dele will fit into it and if Dele really wants to see this, and he’s so lost in thought that he is startled when John suddenly gets up.

“It’s fine,” he says shortly. “If you really don’t want to fuck me, or kiss me, it’s fine. I’m going to go. Fuck this.”

Harry shares a quick glance with Dele, who is looking at him with wide eyes, and he quickly stands too. 

“John,” he rests his hand gently on John’s shoulder, but John shrugs it off and doesn’t look at him. Harry puts his palms up in a gesture of peace, and makes his voice a little softer, gentler. “If you want to go, we can call you a cab, and I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable. But please,  _ please  _ don’t go because you think I don’t want you.”

John finally looks up at him, and he still looks defiant.

“You want to fuck Dele. And you won’t kiss me. And I know he’s your boyfriend, but - you just keep kissing him. And not me.”

Dele pipes up. 

“Yeah, but he’s obsessed with me Stonesy. He likes you a lot too.”

Harry grins.

“What she said.” Dele flutters a little at being referred to as  _ she, _ but Harry tries his best to ignore him so that he can give John his full attention. “Really. John, I’m gonna be honest with you here, and it might sound harsh but I just want you to know I’m being totally honest. I love Dele. I love him more than I love you. He’s my boyfriend and I’m so fucking in love with him I don’t know what to do with myself. But, like Dele said, I like you a lot too, John. You’re a great friend, and you’ve been so lovely and nice tonight. And you don’t look too bad either.” Harry punctuates his monologue with a wink, and he sees John start to smile begrudgingly. “If you’ll let me, I would  _ love  _ to fuck you. I’m sure Dele wouldn’t mind helping out too.”

Dele nods emphatically, mumbling something about  _ tasting that ass _ , and Harry smiles over at him before looking back at John, who is now smiling sincerely and blushing a bit. 

He is about to ask John if all that’s okay, but instead, he has another idea. He lifts his hand up to John’s cheek, and slowly leans closer. He pauses just before their noses touch, waiting to see if it’s okay. 

John closes his eyes and parts his lips slightly. Harry takes that as permission and leans in to softly kiss at his lips. He hears John let out a little sigh as he sucks his bottom lip and deepens the kiss, licking his way into John’s mouth. John kisses him back eagerly, sliding his tongue over Harry’s and biting at his lips as he laces his fingers through Harry’s hair and hums contentedly. 

He breaks the kiss for a second, smiling at how John chases his mouth, and turns to Dele, who’s palming his cock through his skirt. He’s really surprised, but then he suddenly gets it. The entire time they were planning all of this, everything Dele had been saying as they were fucking for months, Harry had been reading it all wrong. He’d assumed that Dele was such a slut that he wanted two people fucking him, which, to be fair to him, wasn’t exactly an outlandish assumption. He finally realises, though, that Dele wants the opposite. He wants to see Harry with someone else. He wants to see Harry kiss someone else, fuck them, and he wants to clean it all up afterwards. 

It makes sense, really. Dele has actually always had a thing for Harry treating him badly, has always begged him to insult him or to yell at him or to treat him like a sex doll, and Harry never really indulged him on it. It just didn’t feel right. He realises that Dele has masterminded this whole operation as the closest thing he will get to his ultimate fantasy of Harry treating him like shit, and he’s actually a little impressed. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” 

Dele shakes his head. 

“Sorry, daddy.”

John may have laughed the first time he heard Dele call him that, but he’s not laughing now. He groans and starts licking Harry’s neck. He wonders briefly if John wants to call him that too.

“I think John might need a little help getting ready,” he tilts his head so that John can get better access. John runs with it and sucks at the column of his throat with intent. “Why don’t you help him, sweetheart?”

Dele nods quickly and crawls up behind John. Harry coaxes him away from his neck. He undoes the buttons on his ridiculously complicated shirt and takes it off, before moving on to his thankfully much simpler trousers, which he steps out of. He moves forward and gently lifts John’s baggy pirate shirt over his head. The two of them are fully naked, and Dele is fully dressed still. The fact that this doesn’t mess up the power dynamic in any way is singularly down to the fact that Dele is dressed in a baby pink dress and a cheap plastic tiara. He still has his fucking kitten heels on, for Christ’s sake. 

Now that they’re both undressed, Harry kisses John quickly one more time, letting John take liberties a little and deepen the kiss for a few seconds before he pushes him away gently. 

“And do you wanna get me ready, John?”

“Fuck yeah.” 

John gets on to his hands and knees eagerly, and grabs at Harry’s trousers, roughly pulling them down. Harry would admonish Dele for doing the same, but he lets John carry on uninhibited, even as John doesn’t ask permission before going to town on Harry’s dick. John suddenly stops and groans, and Harry looks down with interest. He can’t see Dele’s face, but he’s almost certain he knows  _ exactly  _ what he’s doing to John. 

Harry lets John have his moment, then he rests his fingers in John’s hair, reminding him that he’s got a job to do. John looks up at him through glazed eyes and moans loudly. Dele pulls back, meets Harry’s eyes and winks, then leans forward again into the curve of John’s ass. 

John struggles for another second to compose himself, then he moves to lap at Harry’s cock, giving it one long lick from base to tip before he takes a little into his mouth. Harry wants to buck further into the wet heat of John’s mouth, but he holds off, even when John moans around his dick and it sends a shiver up his spine. 

He lets John suck him off for a few minutes, but he gets a little antsy. Firstly, John is eager but he’s not as good as Dele is, and he’s highly distracted by Dele eating his ass which, to be fair, is completely understandable. Besides, now that he’s committed to it he really sort of wants to fuck into John properly. 

He pushes John’s head back softly, only very lightly tugging on his hair when John doesn’t go entirely willingly. John moans a little anyway, but Harry looks into his eyes and he can tell it’s just for effect. Can tell that John is still a little greedy for Harry’s attention.

“Good boy,” he says quietly, patting John’s cheek, and John blinks for a second before he fucking  _ beams _ . Harry replaces his cock with two of his fingers. “Suck.”

John does as he’s told, and as he’s sucking on Harry’s fingers, Harry clicks his tongue to get Dele’s attention. Dele immediately backs up and looks at Harry questioningly.

“Is he wet enough for me, Princess?”

Dele laughs a little. “I should fucking hope so,” he mutters as he uses the back of his hand to wipe at the saliva and precome around his mouth. 

Harry rolls his eyes.

“As if you didn’t love every second.”

Dele grins mischievously and shrugs, and Harry rolls his eyes again before looking back at John. When John feels Harry’s eyes on him, he pulls back from Harry’s fingers with a pop.

“Can you fuck me now?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, and waits for John to correct himself. John waits for a second, blinking, then suddenly seems to get it.

“Sorry. Please? Can you please fuck me?”

Harry nods approvingly, then motions for John to turn around. 

He normally starts Dele off with two fingers, but he’s not sure how much action John gets back here, so he decides to test the waters with one, slowly working him up before he can add a second and third finger. John is whimpering the entire time, all mostly incoherent nonsense but Harry’s sure he hears his own name at least twice among the babble. He works John up for at least five minutes before he thinks he might be ready.

“Hey, Stonesy,” he says lightly. “You ready for my cock?”

John nods quickly. 

“ _ Please.” _

Harry pushes into him slowly, giving John a little bit of time to adjust. John breathes through his nose loudly. Harry waits a second before he shifts inside of John, and John lets out a little choked off sound. 

“I can - I can take it,” he chokes out. “Please fuck me.”

Harry looks at him one last time to check, then nods to himself. He pulls out a little ways and then fucks back into him slowly, giving John still a little bit of time to warm up. John groans like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

Harry doesn’t fuck him too hard or fast, but it’s all deep and slow and Harry thinks it might actually be quite a romantic little fuck if it weren’t for the fact that John, you know, wasn’t his boyfriend, and if said boyfriend wasn’t currently writhing around on the bedroom floor in a princess dress and a tiara. 

Harry stops to consider that for a minute. Why is Dele writhing around like that? 

He watches him for a few minutes then realises exactly what the naughty little slut is doing. He’s fingering himself under the cover of the skirt. Harry groans as he watches him, and he can’t help but think of how hot it would be to see Dele getting fucked under that little skirt. His thrusts become a little harsher, completely by accident, but John doesn’t seem to mind. Harry looks at Dele, looking at him desperately, and thinks he can probably give him a little bit of what he wants. 

“Fuck,” Harry groans. “You want to have a go on the slutty little princess, John?” 

Dele’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he hears Harry talk about him like he’s a fucking toy. And his moan is goddamn  _ pornographic.  _

“Yes,” John says, “Fuck yes.” 

Harry thrusts one last time into John before he pulls out, and he almost steps away but John grabs him by the hips and kisses him deeply. Harry lets him, even licks back into John’s mouth and pulls his hair, but he doesn’t let it go on for too long. He’s too desperate to see these two fuck. 

He waits for a second as John scrambles behind Dele, and he helps Dele get himself into a crouched position after Dele pathetically outstretched his arms to get Harry to help him. John takes a deep breath and looks as if he’s about to stretch Dele out a little more before Harry stops him with a wry grin.

“I think he’s ready for you, John.”

John nods once, and shakily runs his hand down Dele’s back. He holds Dele’s hips in place as he slowly, slowly eases himself in. Harry watches as John’s breath catches in his throat, his chest quivering as he adjusts to the new sensations. 

Harry smiles to himself. He remembers the first time he felt Dele around his cock, how he’d nearly spilled into him right there and then.

“Fuck,” John mutters. Dele turns and grins at Harry, clearly pleased with himself for the reaction he’s getting. John can barely move and Harry knows this might take a minute or two before John can actually do anything worthwhile. 

A minute is far too long for Dele to be waiting. Harry isn’t going to let Dele just lie there, completely unused while John composes himself, so he gets up and moves over to them both, setting himself down in front of Dele. 

Dele looks up at him with pleading eyes and Harry holds his jaw in his hand, his thumb brushing Dele’s bottom lip. 

“Hold on, baby, I think John needs a moment.” 

Dele pouts. Harry holds his jaw in place but Dele can’t help himself. He never can. 

“Oh, fuck,” John blurts as Dele backs into him, creating a friction that John wasn’t expecting. John bites the back of his hand and groans. 

“What did I just say?” Harry asks sternly. He grips Dele’s jaw harder and forces him to meet his eye contact. “What did I just say?” He repeats. 

Dele whimpers in his grasp. 

“You’re really desperate?” Harry asks. Dele nods pathetically in his hands.

Harry knew a minute would be too long for this little slut to wait. 

“Here, something for you to play with.” Harry shuffles forward and adjusts himself so that he’s sitting on the balls of his feet with Dele’s head in his lap. Dele looks like the cat that got the cream; as soon as Harry’s cock is within reach, he starts lapping at it happily. Harry sinks into his feet a little at the sight of Dele reaching for his cock. 

“Sorry- I’m sorry,” John mumbles, still trying to calm his nerves. He looks like he might be about to cry so Harry reaches across Dele’s back and takes John’s hand in his own. “It just… it feels so-” 

“I know,” Harry says, smiling softly at him. “Take your time.” 

Dele continues sucking on Harry’s cock, drooling all over it and licking every ounce of precome that Harry has to offer. 

Harry gives John’s hand an encouraging squeeze and then nods at Dele, giving him permission to start working his way back onto John’s cock. 

Dele pulls himself off of Harry’s dick with a small  _ pop  _ and arches his back, pushing his ass into John. 

“How does he feel?” Harry asks, using his own thumb to wipe his precome off of Dele’s lips. Dele whines until Harry sticks his thumb in Dele’s mouth, letting him suck it clean. 

“Ugh, ya feel so good, Del,” John croaks. He’s finding his stride a little, slowly easing himself in and out of Dele until he builds up the confidence to go faster. Dele bucks his hips, encouraging John to fuck him harder. 

Harry watches them for a few minutes, alternating between holding eye contact with John and then with Dele. Both of them are staring intently at him, wanting his attention, wanting his gaze. 

John begins to pick up his pace. He bites the back of his hand every time he thinks he might go over the edge, but mostly he seems stable. His hands claw down the skin on Dele’s back and Harry’s first instinct is to smack John’s hands, but then he hears the low moan it elicits from Dele’s mouth and he gives John permission to continue.

Harry can see Dele inching forward, wanting to suck on Harry’s cock again. Harry doesn’t deny him. He crawls up onto his knees and pulls Dele’s head back by his hair, digging in his fingernails. 

“What do you want?” Harry asks. Dele whimpers, sticking out his tongue and reaching desperately for Harry’s cock. “You want my cock do you?“

Dele nods so emphatically that his plastic princess tiara almost falls off. Harry rights it for him and lines up his cock with Dele’s mouth, teasing him at first by only giving him an inch or less to suck on. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot,” John comments, watching Dele suck greedily at whatever Harry is allowing him to have. He starts building up pace again, slamming into Dele’s ass and even spanking him a couple of times, which is met with a warm reaction from both Dele and Harry. “You’re such a good slut, Del.”

Dele moans around Harry’s dick and Harry takes that as his cue to push himself into Dele’s throat.

John makes a series of noises that Harry can’t quite decipher. It’s somewhere between a high-pitched squeal and a cry for help. 

“Tell him how good he is,” Harry instructs to John. John nods and pulls himself slowly out of Dele’s asshole, taking a long, hard look as he eases back in. 

“You’re so fucking good, so tight, so warm…” John’s sentence gets lost in his throat. He slams hard into Dele, forcing Dele further onto Harry’s waiting cock. Harry actually has to close his eyes and compose himself for a second to stop himself from coming. 

John slams into him again and again, more aggressive with each thrust. Harry holds Dele’s head in place and strokes his cheek with his thumb. 

Dele says something around Harry’s cock but it comes out garbled. 

“What was that, princess?” Harry asks, removing his dick just enough for Dele to be able to speak. 

“My tiara!” Dele says again, reaching for the plastic tiara which is dangerously close to slipping off of his head. John ploughs into him from behind and the tiara tumbles off Dele’s head, but Harry catches it and puts it back in place. 

“Just take it off,” John says abruptly. “It looks stupid, anyway.”

Harry’s gaze snaps up to meet John’s. They lock eyes for a second and Harry feels a rage burning inside of him. Dele doesn’t say anything but his eyes soften and his entire posture sinks a little. 

Harry leans forward and slaps John across the face. 

“Don’t ever say that again,” Harry warns through gritted teeth. John freezes and stares at Harry, completely stunned and terrified. He holds his cheek in one hand and Dele’s hip in the other. “Do you understand?” 

John nods and tries to string an apology together, but all he can manage is a small, quiet “Sorry.” 

“It’s not me you need to apologise to.” 

John swallows the lump in this throat and gently pats Dele’s back. 

“I’m sorry, Dele. You look really pretty in your tiara.” 

Dele looks up at Harry, his eyes wet with tears. Harry holds his face and leans down to kiss his head. 

“He’s right, baby, you look beautiful.” 

“Does it look stupid?” Dele asks quietly. John watches them both nervously. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Harry replies, smiling softly at him. “It’s pretty. Almost as pretty as you are. I love you in this tiara.”

“Okay,” Dele says, but his voice is small and broken. 

“Do you want John to continue?” Harry asks. Dele hesitates for a moment and then nods. Harry looks at John, takes a deep breath, and signals for him to continue. 

John moans as he pushes back into Dele. 

“You’re daddy’s little princess, you know that?” Harry continues, giving Dele his cock to suck on again. Dele perks up a little bit once he’s got something to suck on. Harry can’t help but think that Dele is maybe putting it on a little just for the sympathy and attention. Still, he wants to make sure Dele knows just how good he actually looks dressed as a princess. 

“I know,” Dele says around Harry’s cock. John is fucking him again and Dele arches his back, signalling for John to go deeper, harder. 

John still looks hesitant, though. Harry gestures for him to do as Dele is asking, but John can’t meet his gaze. His face is red from where Harry’s hand made contact with the skin. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, John,” Harry says sincerely. He leans forward and softly grips John’s jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. John melts into it and closes his eyes, his lips quivering on Harry’s. 

“I’m - I’m so sorry,” John repeats, and Harry shushes him.

“It’s okay,” Harry leans in again and kisses him on his reddened cheek. “Me too.” 

John is clearly buoyed by the positive reinforcement Harry is giving him, and it shows when he fully removes himself from Dele only to slam back in, hard and fast. Dele chokes around Harry’s cock and Harry pats his head absentmindedly. 

John starts to slam into Dele so hard that Dele keeps being forced further down Harry’s cock, gagging and choking every time and drooling more and more by the minute, Harry’s lap becoming an absolute mess of precome and saliva. Harry can’t keep quiet, can’t stop groaning every time he hears those little choked off noises from Dele, and he looks up when he hears John let out a loud moan himself. He eyes him for a second, notes his flushed skin and the tense lines of his body. John is close.

“You gonna come, John?” 

John meets his eyes and whines. He nods helplessly.

“You gonna make a mess of our little princess here? Fuck -” Harry pauses as Dele swirls his tongue around the tip of his dick before being roughly pushed forward again. “He’s going to be such a mess. Leaking come out onto his pretty little skirt, and out of his pretty little mouth.”

Dele moans loudly as he comes instantly, and the vibration around his cock almost makes Harry come right then and there. He knows he has to warn Dele, but one quick look at John gives him an idea. John just looks so fucking desperate.

“Del,” he says quietly, and Dele looks up at him as best as he can through his watering eyes. “Don’t swallow it.”

Dele blinks once, nods, and redoubles his efforts now that he knows that Harry is close.  Dele hums around his cock, knowing how much he likes it, and Harry just spills right then and there with a shout. 

He takes a second to let reality settle in around him, and pulls out of Dele’s mouth carefully, trying not to disrupt the come that Dele is trying so hard to keep in his mouth. He takes two steps forward and grips John’s hip.

“Pull out of him, John.”

John whines, confused, but does as he’s told. 

“Please,” he starts, but Harry shushes him before he turns to instruct Dele. 

“Dele, lie flat on your back, babe.”

When Dele complies, Harry nudges John forward and encourages him to straddle him. John looks relieved, and lifts Dele’s legs up above his shoulders so that he can re-align himself better. Just as John is starting to push into Dele, Harry kneels down behind him and starts kissing at his neck. John almost immediately tilts his head to the side so that Harry can get better access, and Harry kisses his way up John’s throat.

He blows softly at the hair on the nape of his neck before leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You wanna kiss Dele?” he asks, and bites John’s earlobe. “Taste me on Dele’s tongue?”

John whimpers and nods emphatically. 

“I’m going to come,” he says quietly. “Can I?”

Harry kisses him on the nape of his neck.

“As soon as you swallow it all, sweetheart.”

John’s eyes go a little soft around the edges as Harry calls him sweetheart, and he leans forward straight away to lick at Dele’s lips, coaxing them open with his tongue. Dele lets him, a little dazed and most definitely over-sensitive but still such a good boy, and just pushes Harry’s come right into John’s mouth.

John kisses him for a little while, thrusts becoming more and more sporadic, until he turns back to Harry quickly.

“Done,” he says quickly, and Harry taps at his chin, asking him to open up. 

John opens his mouth wide, and Harry nods approvingly. 

“So I can come?” 

“Ask nicely.”

John blinks at him, then looks down a little nervously before meeting his eyes again.

“Please can I come? Daddy?”

Harry groans. He fucking knew John wanted to call him that. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can come.”

John only manages two more thrusts into Dele before he’s coming with a loud shout, looking like he genuinely almost blacks out for a second as he is coming. Harry tries to talk to him, tries to help him pull out, but John doesn’t even hear him for a good minute. 

Finally, John looks back up at him, and pulls out of Dele abruptly.

There’s a few seconds of awkward silence.

Dele sits back up, wincing a little, but smiling brightly.

“Well,” he starts, his voice a little hoarse, still in his fucking princess dress and with come all around his mouth, “That was fun, wasn’t it? Real team bonding experience.” 

Harry rolls his eyes, swats at him a little but without any real force to it. 

John laughs shortly at first, then as Dele starts laughing a little more, they both dissolve into a fit of the giggles, clutching at their stomachs when it becomes too much for either of them. Harry smiles. They’re a pair of fucking morons, but they’re very endearing. 

He was going to do a whole long speech about how he’s going to make sure it doesn’t affect their relationship, how they still respect John  _ so much  _ and how he hopes he had a great time and he’s so sorry for anything he might’ve done wrong - but then he sees John grin widely up at him as he jokingly asks: “daddy can we watch Shrek?” and he just thinks  _ fuck it.  _

He nods, ever-suffering, and logs into his Netflix for them because apparently John Stones and Dele don’t earn enough to have their own Netflix account. They both grin up at him, and scramble up the bed so that they can both rest their heads on Harry’s chest. They have a little play fight about it, but eventually they settle down and just watch the movie. 

All in all, it’s maybe Harry’s favourite Halloween night yet. 


End file.
